Rebirth
She changed her face
casting off the old,
eyes of blue gemstones,
hair, fine threads of gold;
where once she looked
through loving brown
brushing thick dark mane
with streaks of grey.
The cynic laughs and shrugs:
“changing old clothes for new —
you never smothered her
with kisses or with hugs
the way you now do,”
but he does not remember
carefree days, days of giggles
and skinned knees.
Days move from dark to light,
grandmother, once the daughter
became the mother, now the babe,
dead sticks bud for fruit in spring,
autumn leaves turn dry, decay –
new life grows and memories fade,
protecting us from morbid thoughts,
to change our grief from loss to joy
© 2008 Richard Sidy